


When One Door Closes

by devnichou



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, F/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Graphic Violence, Porn, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devnichou/pseuds/devnichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot<br/>Set right at the end of the episode, Veronica has problems with doors.</p><p>Rob Thomas owns these characters and their backgrounds, I just like to imagine what if.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vodka vs. Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a complete LoVe shipper. Logan is one of my favorite male leads and the yardstick with which to measure potential suitors.  
> That being said, this fic is actually a bit out of character for Logan, mostly based on Jason Dohring's dark performance in the Pilot.

**Vodka vs. Whiskey **

 

Veronica lifts her knuckles twice, and drops them twice. She stares at the brass 6 inidicating the room number, and knocks on the door.

If her father knew where she was right now, Veronica would be under house arrest for the rest of her foreseeable future. The Camelot Motel is Neptune’s hotspot for seedy dealings and unsavory citizens.

Behind the window's drawn curtains, Veronica can tell the lights are off. _"Ronnie sweetie, it can't be that hard to flip a light_ _switch. Work out those finger muscles and help us save some money on the electricity bill, will you?"_ In her memories, her mother always smiles.

She presses one side of her face against the door’s peeling green paint, and listens. Sound bytes of their last day together play in her head, and Veronica tries to push away her mom’s slurred words and desperate cries. She doesn't want to hear something that isn’t there. Or worse, miss something that is.

The chill of the hard, glossy wood seeps into her cheek. With each passing second, Veronica waits for Lianne's muffled voice, the sound of running water, squeaking bed springs, anything. A random car horn blares, and she plugs a finger into her exposed ear, muting the outside world.

She knows no one is in that room. At least, no one who wants to see her. Veronica turns her back on the green door of Room 6, and walks down the cement stairs.

The parking lot's only lamp post casts a yellow tint over her Chrystler LeBaron. Walking through the vacant parking spaces, Veronica shifts her gaze from the lot's dark corners to check her wrist watch. She quickens her pace, and reaches the car just as a sharp laugh cuts through the air.

Veronica checks breifly over each shoulder, while fumbling in her purse for her keys. She turns the small piece of metal in the lock, and hears a click. Pulling the handle once and then twice, Veronica blinks in surprise when the door doesn't open.

It isn't the first time the old car has let her down. Throwing her weight behind her, Veronica yanks at the door again and again. Nothing.

Panic soon turns to desperation. Bracing one hand against the LeBaron’s frame, she tightens her grip on the handle. Though the night air is cool, her sweaty palms are slick against the smooth metal. She takes a few deep breaths to gather her strength.

A split second before she pulls, Veronica unconsciously glances to the right. The hair on the back of her neck bristles.

Where her palm is pressed against the car’s frame, a hand twice the size of hers is positioned just an inch away. His large thumbnail almost grazes her pinkie.

A few seconds ago, Veronica could hear the steady commotion of car tires on pavement and buzzing electricity. Now, the hum of blood and adrenaline surging through her body drowns out everything besides her own heartbeat.

Focusing on steadying her pulse, Veronica flexes her fingers on the handle. She's planning the quickest way to reach for her taser when he speaks.

“Don’t stop now, not when you’re so close.” The familiar low voice is only a few inches from her ear.

Veronica turns to face Logan staring down at her through dark eyes. His entire body slants towards hers as he holds himself up with one arm against her car. Veronica notes his blonde-tipped hair looks different tonight. The usually gelled spikes are disheveled, choppy, and erratic.

“Here I was thinking the working class knew all about elbow grease. You can't even open a car door.”

The whiskey on his breath mingles with his cologne.

She forces a thin smile. “Here I was thinking gentlemen opened doors for ladies. Wait a minute..." She pauses, then snaps her fingers and says, "You’re not a gentleman."

He laughs mirthlessly. “Why would I help you when it’s so much _fun_ watching you try to shimmy your way into this rust bucket." Logan taps on her car, then frames his hands as if reading a headline, "The Ultimate Showdown of Trash vs. Trash: Who Will Win?” He chucks her under the chin and she flinches away. “Don’t worry, Ronnie," his voice purrs, "You’ll be awarded _extra_ points for _extra_ shimmying.”

Veronica crosses her arms and leans her lower back against the car, putting a few more inches of space between them.

Keeping her voice steady, she asks, “What do you want, Logan?”

He sweeps his dark eyes down her body, then back up. Stroking his chin, he murmurs, “What do I want...,” Logan looks up, feigning deep thought. Veronica begins to carefully edge away.

“What do I...," He slams both his fists on either side of her, "...want.” Her shoulders are trapped between his huge arms.

As she stares up defiantly at his face, Logan's tongue darts to the corner of his mouth. For the first time, Veronica sees a small red cut there and registers his swollen bottom lip. She carefully scans the rest of the bruising.

His left cheek bone is dotted with broken blood vessels, black and blue underneath his skin. An angry red mark puffs out his temple. Veronica saw Weevil give him a bloody nose, but the fight stopped there. She wonders why and how the PCHers would catch up with him for another beating.

Logan's smile turns from smitten to smug as he becomes aware of her scrutinizing gaze. “Like a man with battle wounds, do you?”

She shakes her head gently. “I don't like that he hurt you.”

He searches her eyes and his features soften for a moment. Before she can process, Logan has already recovered, smirk set firmly in place.

He tilts his head and places a hand over his heart. “My _hero_.”

Veronica's stomach turns at the whiff of alcohol. She shoves his chest away and Logan lets out a pained grunt, then roughly seizes her wrists.

“What’s the matter, Veronica? Fear of intimacy?” She gives up on trying to wrench her hands from his firm grip. He shifts his pelvis forward, pinning her lower body to the car. “You don’t like getting close?”

She glares up at him. “Not to people who reek of booze. But you knew that already.”

Cruelty flickers behind Logan's eyes.

“That’s _riight_ ," he nods, as if it's all coming back to him. "When we used to be friends, you told me all about your mommy issues. She preferred vodka though, hm? See, I'm more of a whiskey man myself.” His smile fades and his jaw muscle flexes. “I think you should dissociate the two from now on.”

Veronica shrugs, affecting a casual tone, “An alcoholic is an alcoholic.”

“Nah, we’re different, Lianne and I. And you know what the difference is?" His voice is sickly sweet, as if he’s speaking to a toddler. "She left you, Ronnie.”

Tears sting behind Veronica's eyes and she glances to the second floor of the motel. The green door of Room 6 remains closed.

Logan squeezes her wrists tighter and she returns her attention to him.

“I'm not like mommy dearest..." he pauses and leans in, "I will never leave.”

Logan breaks eye contact when she bites the inside of her lip.

Exhaling through flared nostrils, he presses himself flush against her. His natural musk makes her head spin, so Veronica closes her eyes and feels her cheek brush against the soft cotton covering his solid chest.

Shivers ripple through her body as his lips graze her ear. “Wherever you go, whatever trouble you get into, I’ll be right there. Waiting.”

For a few moments, Logan rests his head against the top of hers and breathes in her hair. Then, he releases her wrists. 

She hears the rough whisper, “’Til next time” before he pushes away, leaving her slumped against her car. Logan's gone by the time she looks up.

When she turns around, Veronica gently clutches the metal handle. The door springs open.


	2. In Rotation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah, dude, like that one's not in rotation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER SMUT. A lot of it. Meaning, the entire chapter = sex. Just a little FYI.  
> Also, this chapter's present is set during 1 x 2 Credit Where Credits Due. Another one-shot, this time building Logan's obsession with Veronica.

 

 

 

  
**Chapter 2:** **In Rotation**

 

The first time had been a fluke. Every time after hadn’t.

* * *

 

_TWO MONTHS AGO_

Fucking from the side had never been Logan’s thing. He much preferred drilling into a girl from above or watching her ass rise and fall on his cock. The vertical aesthetics worked better for him than the horizontal.

But at some point between going home drunk with a blonde last night and waking up spooned against her this morning, Logan's cock had nestled into the cleft of her bare ass.

By the time he opened his eyes, she was already gyrating against him so he was already hardening against her. With an upwards shift of her body, the girl pressed her slick opening to him and circled her hips, smearing her juices across his tip. On exhale, Logan pushed forward and entered her from behind with one slow, wet stroke.

Still in the haze of sleep, he thumbed lazy circles over her clit and rocked leisurely into the tight, warm channel.

Logan’s thrusts were fluid, steady, and almost as deliberate as the show she put on, complete with dramatic gulps for air and unconvincing moans.

When she started whipping her head back and forth across the pillow, Logan was _this_ close to giving her a round of applause. Then, a sheet of blonde hair fell across her face and it wasn’t the girl from last night anymore. It was Lilly.

He froze, almost pulled out, almost told her to leave. She whined and bucked against him. Lilly was never able to take 'no' for an answer. Logan was never able to answer her ‘no’.

He closed his eyes in a half-hearted attempt to break from the fantasy. Lilly's presence only magnified. She was inside of him, all around him, all over him.

Logan looked down at the small body in his bed and wrapped his arms tightly around her middle. Lilly was so prone to slipping away.

Then, he reared back and thrust deep.

His heart beat fast and hard against his chest. He wasn't sure if this would end in orgasm or a heart attack because _Lilly_ was right there in front of him. She rolled her hips against his with that same unshakeable confidence and idly stroked herself off with those same manicured fingers.

When the curtain of hair shifted an inch, Logan quickly flipped her onto her stomach, before he could see the rest of a very un-Lilly jaw line.

Pulling her up onto her knees, he pinned her neck to the pillow, and ran his hand along the slope of her spine. It looked exactly like their last time together. _The_ last time together.

Murmuring how hot she was, how beautiful she was, Logan reached around her front and replaced her fingers with his own. He stroked rhythmically against her swollen clit and gently pinched, just the way she always liked it.

Ducking his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Talk to me, baby, tell me how it feels.”

And when she did, he quickly covered her mouth. His name from her was too high pitched, too loud. Lilly would never give him that much. She was all whispers, like she was telling him a secret. A good one.

The girl beneath him mumbled into his palm and Logan just pressed his hand tighter against her mouth, rubbed his fingers faster over her bundle of nerves, and pumped his dick harder into her tight pussy.

Lilly was finally back, finally back to _him_. Maybe she had never left, maybe she had just been waiting for the right moment. God, it was so easy. He was so easily going to come inside his dead girlfriend.

But nothing came easy for Logan.

With a jerk of her neck, not-Lilly’s eyes stared back at him. The girl bit her bottom lip and Logan could feel her slick, tight muscles squeezing as she got off on him, got off on _this_.

Hit with the sudden urge to rip out her imposter hair, Logan swept up the blonde locks and bunched them into his fist. As he gazed at the hanging strands, Logan noticed they looked shorter. Shoulder-length, in fact.

A chill ran through his body.

 

* * *

 

_PRESENT DAY_

“Ohhh baby, don’t you _daarrreee_ _stopppp_ ” Caitlin draws out the last two words, as if she actually thinks she sounds sexy.

Logan brings his cum-coated fingers to her lips and shoves them into her mouth. Driving in to the hilt, he leans down and growls, “Shut _the_ _hell_ up.” She silently sucks his fingers.

Deepening his thrusts, Logan presses his thumb hard against her clit, massaging the hard nub. His lips curl into a smirk when she stills beneath him and becomes finally quiet, concentrated.

While Caitlin shudders in orgasm, Logan gathers her hair with his free hand. He pistons in and out of her, threading his fingers through the soft strands. When he bunches the locks at the nape of her neck, he can't restrain his groans. The blonde tresses are barely,  _perfectly_ , grazing her shoulders.

Vision blurring, ears ringing, all Logan can see is her naked back. Her delicate neck. Her short. _Thrust_. Blonde. _Thrust_. Hair.

His balls tighten, his hips jerk, and he loses control. _Veroni—_

“GAAH!”

 

After his head stops spinning, Logan rolls off her body and stares at the ceiling, panting. In his peripheral vision, Caitlin grabs her phone from the bedside table and types out a text.

He pulls on his boxers, walks to the open cabinet lined with bottles, and pours a glass of liquid amber.

Logan replays her name in his head, savoring each syllable with the slow burn of whiskey. When he finishes his drink, he pours another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be plenty of Logan + Veronica, not just Logan thinking of Veronica's hair during sex.


	3. Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan's a creep, but a cute creep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during 1x3 Meet John Smith  
> Some changes made, obviously

"So, where do you want to go Saturday night? I know of a great place by the marina, just outside of Neptune."

Veronica nods, half listening, half watching Logan and Duncan in the hallway.

"Don't worry," Troy lowers his voice, "I'm not embarrassed to take you out or anything. It's just a really cool spot and the food is…"

His words don't reach her ears because Duncan just rushed into the bathroom, leaving Logan alone, baffled and now meeting her gaze. Veronica tries to refocus on Troy.

"…as long as you're okay with getting away for a little while."

Logan pushes through a haggle of freshman, eyes trained on her, and settles in right behind them. Leaning an elbow on the locker, he rests his cheek against his open palm and tilts a delighted grin at her.

Veronica clears her throat. "Getting away?"

"Yeah…" He nods, a little confused, then asks measuredly, "Are you okay with leaving Neptune for the evening?"

Over Troy's shoulder, Logan cocks a brow. _Are you?_

"Absolutely," she looks away from the dark stare to meet Troy's light blue eyes. She smiles. "More than okay, in fact."

Veronica slips her hand into his and Troy reminds her, "Saturday night, 7 pm, Roy's Seaside Café."

As they walk past the tall boy following them with his eyes, Veronica raises her voice a notch to say, "It's a date."

 

 

 

*******

 

 

Troy loves people watching. He learns more from a person in their ticks than words could ever tell him.

Veronica runs her fingers through her hair each time he asks her questions about her past. Tick #1, a self-soothing tick. Most likely, fixing her hair gives her some semblance of order in an otherwise messy life. Obviously, a control freak.

Tick #2: She casts her eyes downwards each time he looks at her lips. She doesn't trust him or she's not comfortable with her sexuality. Or both.

The one he can't quite figure out is Tick #3. Every few minutes throughout their date, Veronica glances over her shoulder at the window facing the parking lot. Whenever he follows her line of sight, Troy sees only parked cars.

They pass through the evening enjoying food and small talk. He pays when the check arrives. He knows how to act the gentleman.

Offering her an arm, Troy walks her to the small, dingey, black convertible. Before she can get in, he flirts and gives her his number. (This tells her _yes_ he's committed _yes_ he wants another date _yes_ she can rely on him.)

All signs point to a _yes_ for the kiss but when he leans in, she flinches away. Tick #3 surfaces again, only this time, she's checking over _his_ shoulder.

Troy recovers from the failed kiss with a flourished bow. It's the best he can do, the most he cares to do. He still has some loose ends to tie and an out-of-state girlfriend to call.

After opening the car door for her, he walks back to the other side of the lot. Troy concludes she's still too nervous. He still has work to do.

Thankfully for him, he's an ace at hiding his ticks.

After pulling his BMW out of the lot, Troy glances back towards Veronica's car. It's still in it's parking space.

A car behind him honks, so he turns out onto the street.

If that car hadn't honked, if Troy had watched the parking lot for a few more seconds, he would have seen Veronica hop out of the Le Baron, walk to the spot she had been staring at all night, open the door of a parked yellow X-Terra, and get in.

 

 

**

Logan nearly jumps out of his skin as Veronica sits down next to him. He had been punching in her number on his phone and debating whether to press send when she ripped open the door.

She glares at him from the passenger seat. " _What_ are you doing."

Her inflection doesn't suggest a question, so he doesn't give an answer. "I don't remember telling you it was okay to barge into my car whenever you wanted."

"Oh, I'm sorry," her voice trembles with rage, "have I intruded on your privacy?"

He looks down at his hands. She continues. "Forgive me, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Opening your unlocked car door is _much_ worse than you _following_ me."

"Oh please," Logan snaps, "It's a parking lot, I can…" he trails off.

"You can… what?" She waits but he stays silent, "Spy if you want to?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself. My dad has his boat at the Albacore Club right there…" he points. As she looks out the window, Logan admires her delicate profile.

"Which slip is your boat in? And what's its name?"

He almost laughs but her face is sober, expectant.

"Jesus. Okay, see the tall mast with the blue and white sail?"

She searches through the rows of masts for a few moments, then scoffs. "Nope, not really…"

Logan gently grips her chin with his thumb and forefinger, then tilts her face to the left.

He watches her eyes settle upon the mast in question. "Okay," she says, "I see it…"

"Now, look three boats down. See the big yacht?" Though her face doesn't need to be turned, Logan keeps his fingers pressed lightly to her chin. Veronica nods.

"That's Dutchess. Slip 5. Aaron Echolls' pride and joy."

She's still looking out the window, focused. Her skin looks so soft, and Logan wants to feel it. He strokes his thumb across her jawline and she jerks away.

"So, you were just at the marina parking lot, sitting in your car, staring at your dad's boat?"

He looks down to her lips. "No." The word comes out gravelly, so Logan clears his throat.

Her face softens and she asks curiously, "What is this?"

Moving a couple inches closer, he holds her eye contact. "You really don't know?"

Veronica sinks back against the passenger window. She keeps her distance, but she's doesn't reach for the door handle.

Logan says huskily, "Didn't Chief Mars teach his little girl not to get into cars with strangers?"

Veronica rolls her eyes. "I've known you since you were twelve, Logan."

"I think we're both a little different, now." Reaching out, Logan sweeps a lock of hair from of her face, then idly twirls the silky strand around his finger.

Her blue eyes are sparkling more than usual. Logan's first thought is that she wants him. His second thought is that she's about to cry.

Either way, he arrives at the same decision.

Logan moves forward quickly and presses his mouth to hers. He expects the hard, rough Veronica Mars. Instead, he's met with plush softness.

When he pulls back, Veronica just stares up at him, shell shocked and dazed. Logan recognizes the bona fide princess virgin he used to know so well.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, he thumbs her bottom lip and memorizes the feel of Veronica's warm blush against his palm.

This time, she moves to kiss him. As Veronica slowly parts her lips, Logan slips his tongue inside, relishing in the velvety warmth of her mouth. For a few long moments, Logan just explores her, tastes her.

She tangles her tongue with his and Logan groans into her throat. His dick presses painfully against his jeans and he kneads her breasts through her shirt, trying to release some of the tension building inside of him. Veronica matches his fervor, sucking and biting on his lips, scraping her nails down his spine.

He entwines his fingers through her locks and tugs, tilting her head back. With access to the column of her throat, Logan licks and sucks the sensitive skin. His teeth clamp down on the junction between her neck and shoulders and Veronica whispers his name.

Tightening the fist gripping her hair, Logan keeps her head still, moving up to pepper soft kisses along her jaw. When he sees her tongue run along the seam of her red and swollen lips, he crashes his mouth to hers once more, fusing them together.

All of her soft curves are his to touch and grab and squeeze. Logan works his way down her sides, over her flat stomach, and traces his fingers along her midriff. He begins to undo the button of her jeans and she makes a strangled sound, then scoots away suddenly and pushes his hands off her.

"What are you doing?!" Veronica looks at him incredulously.

He sputters, "I thought—" She barks out cold laughter before he can finish.

"You thought I was going to let you fuck me in your car?"

His cheeks are hot. From the make out or the subsequent humiliation, he's not sure.

Logan tries again, "I thought you wanted this."

She stares at him, shaking her head, "I came in here to tell you to stop following me a-and..."

Logan cuts in, "And, what, you got lost along the way?"

Shame creeps over Veronica's face as she averts her eyes.

Angry, he bites out, "You were right there with me, don't act like you weren't."

She purses her lips. There's a long pause before she says quietly, "I'm sorry I gave you the wrong idea."

Rejection burns through him. "I'm sorry I wasted my time on a cocktease like you."

Veronica yanks the metal handle and as she jumps out of his car, Logan calls out, "Wait"

She turns back to him, disgust writ all over her face. His mind is jumbled and his mouth isn't forming any words so he just stares at her, mouth slightly agape

Veronica slams the door before he can say, _Don't._

 

_*******  
_

She lets Troy press kisses to her mouth, her cheeks, her neck. She lets him discard her sweater and run his fingertips along her skin. Veronica lets him touch wherever Logan did. And she prays his fingers will overwrite the invisible imprints left behind from two nights ago.

When he tries to lift her tank top, Veronica pushes him away.

"Hold on, Sparky." Pulling her sweater on, she looks at the bathroom clock. "Class is out in five minutes and I don't want an audience."

She grabs her binder from the sink counter and walks towards the door. Troy's arms wrap around her from behind, settling over her middle.

He brushes his mouth against her ear. "Maybe you could procure some of that Veronica magic." A smile spreads over her lips. As she pulls open the door, his voice is low and flirty, "I've heard tales of an Out of Order sign."

With his arms still wrapped around her, she turns to face him, walking backwards and pulling him out of the bathroom.

"Who told you—", She doesn't finish her sentence because Troy is focused on whatever is behind her.

She looks over her shoulder at the group of 09ers waiting in the hallway.

The sight of Veronica and Troy stumbling out the door together has made all of the guys break out into laughter. All but one.

Logan leans back against the wall, expression stony, and picks at his fingernail. "If you go into bathrooms alone with boys—" his eyes flick to hers, "—people may get the wrong idea." _I'm sorry I gave you the wrong idea._ She stiffens. _  
_

Troy lets go of her waist Veronica crosses her arms firmly in front of her, holding her binder to her chest like a shield.

Pulling out his wallet, Logan takes out a square foil packet. "I'd think about carrying these around from now on." He tosses the condom to Troy. Winking at Veronica, he adds, "You don't know how many guys she gets in there."

"I'm just trying to live up to my title." Her voice is ice. "The problem is, you spread the rumors so quickly, it's hard to keep up."

He shrugs and walks closer, smiling pleasantly. "What can I say? You inspire me." His eyes linger on hers for a moment too long. When she glances away, Logan quickly wrests the binder from her arms.

Veronica lunges for it but his reactions are quicker. He pulls away and she ends up gripping his wrist.

Dick murmurs, "Daaamn, she wants it bad…" Veronica recoils.

All of the guys laugh except Troy, who circles an arm around her waist, and Logan, who stares daggers at Troy, then opens her binder to flip through the notes.

Finally stopping at a blank page, he grabs the pencil tucked behind his ear and begins to jot something down.

Veronica sighs. "This is getting old, Logan." She adds pointedly, "This _whole_ _thing_."

His head is ducked while he writes, but he glances up at her momentarily, raising his eyebrows and wrinkling his forehead. "You're going to have to learn patience, Veronica." Then, he resumes scribbling on the page.

She laughs. "Oh, you're calling me by name now? I thought you preferred Trampy McBitch."

Another round of laughter ensues and Logan slams the binder closed.

"That one's a little too formal for my liking." He walks closer. "I think Veronica works better on a day to day basis, don't you?"

She sugarcoats her voice, "Logan, sweetie, we don't interact on a day to day basis so you have nothing to worry about."

His lips quirk into a flirty smile. "Okay okay, 'nightly basis', if we're going to be technical about it." He pauses, then claps a hand on Troy's shoulder. Logan asks him in a conspiratorial tone, "I can't exactly call out Trampy McBitch while she's in my bed, can I?"

"Hey man," Troy interjects, "you should probably back off now."

The 09ers behind Logan move closer. He holds two fingers up, keeping them at bay.

"Listen, you're new here so let me fill you in." He sounds amused, but there is an undercurrent of hostility in his words. "Veronica doesn't want any part of your... side business."

Troy narrows his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Shaking his head, Logan sighs heavily. "I didn't want to break up young love so fast, but if you're not going to tell her…" He turns to Veronica. "Your bathroom buddy has some baggage. It might be a little over your…" he gently pats Veronica on the head and breaks out into a wide smile.

The bell rings and Logan is momentarily distracted by students trickling out of their classrooms. Veronica takes the opportunity to loop her hands around Troy's neck and press her mouth to his.

The whoops and laughs around her push Veronica to prolong the kiss. Troy's hands run slowly up and down her sides. Glancing from the corner of her eye, she sees Logan glower at them, a rogue muscle in his jaw twitching.

A wave of satisfaction rolls through her and Veronica seals the moment with a few gentle pecks against Troy's lips. Looking up at him, she asks coyly, "See you later?" and he replies with a cool, " _Any_ time you want, babe."

He winks at her, then turns and shakes his head at the rest of the 09ers before walking away.

Logan's face is tense as he watches Troy's retreating form. "Does your puppy know how to roll over? If you like, I could always teach him to play dead."

"Enough." Veronica's voice is firm and Logan looks back at her. She holds out a hand for the binder he's still holding.

Logan sighs. "Okay, I relent." His huge hand grabs hers. "But we have to be careful this time." Pulling her close to him, he spins them towards the bathroom and says, "Clemmons promised he would kick us both out if he caught us defiling his school again."

The guys behind them howl in laughter, joined by a few other students passing by. Veronica jerks away from him, then grabs her binder from his hands.

"Ohhh," he puts a finger to his mouth as if he just remembered, "You'd rather meet up in my car later tonight, right?"

She opens her mouth to speak but the retort dies on her lips. His eyes glint as he watches her, waiting for her to continue their little sparring match.

Instead, she forces herself to turn away from Logan.

"Hey," his voice is suddenly angry and he grips her shoulder, "I was talking to you—"

Veronica twists hard, yanks away from him, and whips around to yell, "Don't touch me!"

He flinches and then eases away, holding his palms up in front of him.

Over a nervous laugh, Logan says, "Take it easy."

Veronica steps closer. "If you put your hands on me again," she lets out a shaky exhale, "I will make you suffer. I promise."

She turns to walk down the hall, fists curled so tightly her nails bite into the skin.

Behind her, Logan calls out, "You know what they say about making promises you can't keep, right?"

Suppressing the urge to stomp back, scream at him, maybe smack his smug face, Veronica walks on, thinking, _Don't._

 

 

***********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has been following the episodes so far, and the next one is Wrath of Con aka the flashback/Lilly memorial/Homecoming episode.  
> There are some pretty big canon moments for Logan/Veronica in that episode and because this is fanfiction, I plan to expand on those moments with sexual tension.

**Author's Note:**

> TBC
> 
> My first fic! Please review and let me know what you think!


End file.
